


Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

by destielonfire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Bottom Castiel, Dom Dean, Dom/sub, Drabble, Edgeplay, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Sub Castiel, Top Dean, Voyeur Dean, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:37:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielonfire/pseuds/destielonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Castiel opens his mouth to beg Dean to touch him, to say something, do something - anything.  At Dean’s curt shake of his head, the words die on his lips.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He didn’t have permission to beg.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> EDITED TO ADD: This work is now entirely beta read by the wonderful Shannon_Kind, who is also an author on AO3, so go check her work out! She is an angel who spent way more time on helping me fine-tune this fic than it probably deserves. Thanks, Shannon! <3

Castiel can almost feel Dean watching from the chair that is placed strategically a few metres away from the bed. The sensation is nearly as strong as that of his own fingers as they move up and down his shaft, slick with lube and sweat. His steady rhythm from earlier has long since devolved into desperate pulls that make his back arch and his toes curl. He hears Dean hum his appreciation when his other hand tugs at his balls, his fingertips edging towards his hole, still open and stretched from the dildo he had fucked himself on before. Castiel hated the feeling of being so empty, wanting nothing more than to shove his fingers in his hole and fuck himself down on them.

But he doesn’t have permission to touch himself there.

Castiel attempts to control his breathing, trying so hard to keep the moans at the back of his throat from passing his lips. He had been told not to make a sound, and he knows Dean is still watching, listening. A gasp escapes, unbidden, and Castiel’s eyes fly open as he turns his head towards Dean. He opens his mouth to beg Dean to _touch_ him, to _say something_ , _do something_ \- _anything_.  At Dean’s curt shake of his head, the words die on his lips.

He doesn’t have permission to beg.

Squeezing his eyes shut again, Castiel grips his cock tighter and picks up the pace, furiously thrusting into his fist, even though he’s so near the edge his whole body is shaking and shivering uncontrollably. He bites his lip a little bit too hard in pure frustration and breaks the skin, spilling a single drop of blood before his grace quickly closes up the wound.

Castiel feels the drop make its way down his lip. He hears movement from across the room and squeezes his eyes closed tighter, trying to hide his unfocused, lust-addled gaze. Long moments later, a shudder of the bed - not caused by his own trembling body - forces his eyes back open. Dean is crouched over him, millimetres away but still refusing to close the distance. Castiel groans almost imperceptibly, yearning desperately to reach out to Dean but knowing that he can’t.

He doesn’t have permission to touch Dean.

He can only hope that Dean will take mercy on him.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Dean lowers his lips to Castiel’s and slowly licks the drop of blood from them, drawing another quiet moan from the angel. Fuck, he is making too much noise-- Dean had told him to be silent. Castiel struggles to obey, but Dean only smirks, bringing his lips close to Castiel’s ear and growling:

“Start begging, angel.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is now entirely beta read by the wonderful Shannon_Kind, who is also an author on AO3, so go check her work out! She is an angel who spent way more time on helping me fine-tune this fic than it probably deserves. Thanks, Shannon! <3

“Start begging, angel.”

It is like a dam has broken, desperate words pouring out of Castiel’s mouth-much louder than he expects them to be. He doesn’t think he could stop now, even if Dean asks him to. “Please, Dean…fuck me…I can’t take it anymore…I ne-” Castiel’s voice hitches as Dean curls his hand around the angel’s own and slows the pace along his cock, dragging him back from the edge and calming him down just a fraction.

“You’re so beautiful like this, you know that?” Dean smiles at him, eyes bright with affection and something else that Castiel can’t quite identify. “All slick and opened up and ready for me, begging me to take you.” Dean licks a stripe up Castiel’s neck before latching onto a spot right below his ear and delivering a firm bite that squeezes another moan out of Castiel.

“Nobody else has seen you like this,” Dean’s voice drops to almost a whisper and he squeezes Castiel’s cock a bit harder in a possessive move. “Nobody else has touched you like this.” He lifts his head to look Castiel in the eye, smirking when Castiel stares unflinchingly back at him. “You know what I want to hear, sweetheart.”

“I’m yours, Dean,” Castiel says simply, adoringly, the words coming so easily to him because it’s the truth – will always be the truth, no matter what happens. No matter what crap life throws at Dean just because he is a Winchester. Castiel made his choice the day he pulled Dean out of hell and remade him atom by atom.

No, that was a lie.

Castiel had since realized there never was much of a choice.

Although he is billions of years older than Dean, he knows – can feel it in the very core of his grace – that he was made for this, made for Dean.

Dean’s lips crash onto his, the kiss rough and dirty and deeply satisfying to Castiel after being touch-starved for the past hour.  Dean’s hand lets go of Castiel’s cock to push his legs apart, moving in between the newly created space. Breaking the kiss, Dean lines himself up and with a “Let me take care of you, Cas,” sinks into his body with a sigh.

“Finally,” Castiel thinks. “You feel so good, Dean,” he says, just to see Dean’s eyes soften and to coax him to kiss him again - which Dean does, licking into Castiel’s mouth as he starts to thrust into him slowly.

And Castiel thinks again that he was made for Dean. They fit together so perfectly that Castiel can feel his grace latching on to Dean’s soul, blending, melding, making him forget where he begins and Dean ends. He doubts that Dean, with his human limitations, experiences their love-making quite like that. Although Castiel had previously tried to explain it, he had no way of expressing how intense and all-encompassing the experience is for him. So he just gives himself over to the sensations, to the feelings of _rightness_ and _home_ and _love_ that each deep thrust of Dean’s hips evokes.

Dean picks up the pace and grabs Castiel’s hair, tugging his head backwards to expose his throat. Castiel knows that Dean likes the way it makes him look vulnerable, likes the way Castiel - who is after all still a seraph, a warrior angel - would never bear his throat like that to anyone but him.

“Dean…please, I need you, I need to-” Castiel gasps, the pressure in his gut building again as Dean hits his prostate with every snap of his hips. He knows he can’t come yet, but trusts Dean will get him there soon. “I know, angel, I know,” Dean murmurs into his neck. “You’ve been so good for me, so patient.” Dean lowers his voice even more and finally says the words Castiel has been craving to hear.

“Come for me, love.”

Castiel’s whole body spasms and undulates as his orgasm hits him like crashing waves, lasting what seems like ages and wiping away all other thoughts from his mind but how good Dean feels inside of him and how he never wants this to end. The spasms cause his hole to clench tight around Dean’s cock, and it only takes a couple of thrusts before Dean is right there over the edge with him, moaning and panting into Castiel’s mouth as he comes, buried deep inside him.

The air is still around them as their breathing syncs up and slowly returns to normal. Castiel enjoys these moments of peace, when Dean is still inside of him and he feels warm and safe and loved. After a few minutes, Dean pulls out gently and says “I’ll be right back,” getting out of the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. He returns only moments later with a damp washcloth and a glass of water, passing the glass to Castiel with an unspoken request to drink it down. Castiel shivers a little when the washcloth hits his oversensitive skin, grateful that Dean had used warm water to wet it. He watches Dean fondly as the hunter thoroughly cleans the come, lube and sweat off of Castiel first and himself second. He knows Dean treasures this part, where he can take care of them both, and is more than happy to let him.

When Castiel finishes his water, Dean takes the empty glass from him and puts it on the bedside table together with the washcloth. He lies down on the bed facing Castiel and pulls the blankets over their rapidly cooling bodies. Castiel hums contentedly, murmuring a soft “I’m fine, Dean,” when Dean asks him how he feels and if he wasn’t too hard on him.

After a few moments of stroking Castiel's hair in silence, Dean presses a gentle kiss to the angel's cheek. “I don’t deserve this,” he says quietly, reverently. “I don’t deserve you. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows, surprised at the admission, at the sudden vulnerability that Dean rarely allows himself to express. He catches Dean’s eye and smiles at him with that quirky half-smile that he knows Dean loves. “But I _am_ yours, Dean. For as long as you’ll have me. And you,” Castiel’s arms coil around Dean’s waist, pulling him closer, “are mine,” he whispers as he takes the initiative and kisses Dean back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to finish it after all, cause I figured Castiel deserved to come ;)  
> Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think!  
> You can find me as [destielonfire on tumblr](http://destielonfire.tumblr.com) \- please come and say hi!


End file.
